


moonlight legend

by incarnandine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Festivals, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Sheithlentines 2019, Slow Build, Stargazing, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 01:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incarnandine/pseuds/incarnandine
Summary: There's rarely a moment when Keith isn't touching him: gently lifting his hand to Shiro's arm to catch his attention, clutching onto his sleeve in a crowd, a steady presence along his side when they're lounging around in the open area of the Castle.Or Shiro, Keith and a series of snippets from different moments of their budding relationship throughout the seasons.





	moonlight legend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinspiration](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/gifts).



> Sheithlentines exchange gift for Ils (justsayins)! They asked for a touch-starved Keith and how he gradually learns touching from Shiro.
> 
> Happy Sheithlentines ❤️

**1.**

It's a week until the Kerberos launch and the last weekend Shiro gets to spend on leisure before all the full-blown preparations begin; it's also the second week of April, which makes the desert air fresh enough to breathe and yet warm enough to stay on the dorms rooftop past sunset.

Shiro brings the newest telescope Matt's built recently, one that can easily see past the edges of the Solar System; Keith brings an assortment of snacks stolen from the cafeteria or smuggled from the cadets' weekly trips to town. As much as he managed to salvage from his roommate, he proclaims in a proud tone, and Shiro grins at that, offering his most sincere congratulations. After all, it's the last time he gets to eat salted peanuts this year, he adds with a wink, earning himself a fit of laughter from his friend.

They set up the telescope and take turns stuffing their mouths silly with barbecue chips and peanuts and looking at the edges of the known universe. It's mostly Keith who watches, though, Shiro's role being relegated to the honorary refiller of the chips bowl, but he manages to steal a glance through the lens once and again.

It's hard to believe that a week from now he'll be out there; the youngest pilot to lead a mission into deep space, the most accomplished Garrison officer to ever take on the wonders of the universe.

"Hey," Keith nudges him with one arm, motioning for him to move. "You'll have that all for yourself, let me look some."

It's only after a moment that Shiro realizes it's been the  _ first time Keith has ever touched him _ . 

Shiro's usually a tactile person, so he tried a couple of times without thinking too much on it - a pat on the shoulder, a ruffle of Keith's hair, a congratulatory hug when Keith beat the newest sim score three times one week. It took him extending a hand to Keith to help him on the hover and being met with a flinch to notice that touching Keith in any way is a big no.   
  
Shiro didn’t question it in any way; it's not his place to do so, and Keith never commented on it, so he let it drop.

He focused instead on talking to Keith, his usually expressive body language dulled down to accommodate his young friend; careful to keep a distance comfortable enough every time he approaches, communicating instead through his words and his eyes. Where he'd hug Matt or high-five him, or give him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, with Keith he kept his hands firmly to himself. If he's concerned, or happy, he shows it with a soft smile or a comforting word.

Now, he doesn't let the confusion show and moves out of the way automatically. By now, he's so used to the fact that Keith is strictly a hands-off person, no exceptions to that rule, that it must have been some kind of mistake, he's sure of that, but most of all he's not going to point it out.

Once all of the snacks are gone, Shiro notices Keith meticulously remove the wrappers and plastic boxes aside - and a while after there's a bundle of a soft red jumper and messy black hair pressed all the way to his side.

"Hey there, buddy," Shiro breathes in surprise, looking down at Keith - who is pointedly /not/ looking at him in return. "What's up?"

"Be safe out there" the red-and-black bundle murmurs, chin hidden in the collar of the jumper and his face awkwardly pressed against Shiro's chest. "'M gonna miss you," he adds after a moment in a voice so unsure that it almost breaks Shiro's heart to leave; instead he raises his arm slowly and wraps it around Keith's slim shoulders, returning the hug as gently and cautiously as he can.

"I'll be back before you notice," he replies in a playfully conspiratory tone. "I'll bring you something cool from space. Most possibly a rock, unless I manage to find a magical space artifact-- or, well, let's stick with a rock," he chuckles, feeling Keith relax against his side, one of Keith's arms snaking out to worm its way into hugging Shiro closer.

It might be because it's getting colder; it might be because Keith opens up to him finally, and Shiro doesn't have the heart to question it and just lets Keith stay as long as he wants - letting go only enough to bring the telescope closer between the two of them.

 

**2.**

People everywhere are celebrating the win against Zarkon; planets after planets put up victory events and parades, loud and colorful laudations of Voltron as the savior of the known universe - and Shiro can't help but feel somehow detached from all of it.

That's stupid, Shiro tells himself grimly, swirling the contents of a drink offered to him by a tall waiter circling the banquet guests with a tray. This is no way to treat his teammates and the people who offered them hospitality; and yet, he doesn't want to interact with anyone more than necessary today.

He takes a deep breath and moves to the balcony, the amount of people in the large hall somehow suffocating all of a sudden; it's strange even for himself - the Earth garrison officer Takashi Shirogane was always the life of a party, but the Voltron paladin Shiro feels too old and too stiff to enjoy himself properly.

Something is definitely off, and he doesn't know how to approach it, so he decides to hide instead; the balcony is surrounded by green bushes which glow somehow blue in the soft light of one of this planet's many moons - tall enough for Shiro to disappear from view and not look like he's doing it on purpose.

He forces himself to breathe slower and relax, redirect his thoughts from the fight, the captivity, the druids, the--  _ everything _ , to admiring the scenery around him.

After the fight with Zarkon and his subsequent second capture, then escape, he doesn't feel quite himself; it's hard to explain, like a piece that doesn't fit correctly. He's not one to undermine the efforts of everyone else on the team-- and yet, he can't shake off the feeling that they don't really understand how hard it was to face against the Galran emperor directly; how most of the impact was focused on the Black Lion.

There's the sound of soft footsteps behind him, announcing a tentative presence of someone approaching, and Shiro's grim expression gives way to a confused half-smile once he sees Keith stop at the edge of a low table filled with various snacks and bizarre candies, his own drink in hand.

The expression on the other paladin's face is curious as he scans the contents of the table just to pick up one of the sharp star candies and roll it between his fingers before he carefully puts it away at the edge of the table.

It's silly, to hold a grudge against his teammates like this; it's silly to hold a grudge against Keith, who was just faced with the revelation about his own heritage and took it in stride, his brave resolve never breaking.

He startles a little as Keith puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder; Shiro's first instinct is to fight or flee as he realizes that he doesn't want to be touched in any way. So strange, he convinces himself; this is Keith, Keith who went to such great lengths for him, and who doesn't deserve this kind of treatment - so he forces his body to relax and puts his own hand atop Keith's in a hope to soothe the confusion in the younger paladin's eyes.

Keith's face is a myriad of emotions, constantly shifting from bewilderment to worry to, finally, a soft kind of affection that makes Shiro's heart melt as he gently moves to twine their fingers together.

"You don't look like someone who wants company right now," Keith says gently, slowly; almost unsure with how brash he usually is. He's closing in on himself again, Shiro realizes, almost pulling away, and his own hand on Keith's tightens unconsciously. "I can go back inside."

Shiro just shakes his head and rubs a thumb over the top of Keith's gloved hand; it's new, this kind of easy affection, but thinking about Keith warm and real next to him is better than thinking about the emptiness of space, of the discomfort that fills him constantly since he came back. That's a good thing to focus on - Keith next to him, warm and real, and the bluish glint of the trees in front of them.

"It's fine," he replies. "Stay with me.”

 

**3.**

The sky is purple above them, and the strange atmosphere on this planet dyes everything hues of grey and white. Voltron is on a diplomatic mission on one of the planets recently saved from a Galran invasion and Shiro sees with his own eyes how fast the denizens rebuild their home; everywhere around them, there is an almost festive atmosphere, the inhabitants of the small planet out despite the cold, setting up stalls on both sides of a freshly rebuilt bridge.

From the corner of his eye, he spots someone teaching Pidge the moves to a local traditional dance of victory; a chuckle at his left tells him that Keith has seen it, too.

It still stuns Shiro how much Keith had changed from the kid he'd recruited into the Garrison; he grew up - obviously - but also opened up, matured into a fine leader, someone who is willing to support others. He also can't help but notice how much more tactile he got with those close to him - he never hesitates to hug Allura or lay a reassuring hand on Hunk's shoulder; even the occasional spats between him and Lance somehow started to include playful shoving or shoulder bumps.

As for Shiro himself, there's rarely a moment when Keith isn't touching him: gently lifting his hand to Shiro's arm to catch his attention, clutching onto his sleeve in a crowd, a steady presence along his side when they're lounging around in the open area of the Castle.

When Keith  _ isn't  _ touching him long enough for Shiro to notice, it feels-- empty.

A warm hand grips his own as Keith leads him into a small alleyway on the other side of the bridge, crossing in front of a local temple; Shiro's heart skips a beat.

As his relationship with Keith fluctuates, from mentor and protege to teammates to something Shiro can't put a name on just yet, he'd like to know the meaning behind all of this; whether it's just Keith being more open, or-- something more.

Silently, deep down, he hopes for something more.

Keith whips around suddenly, pulling a surprised Shiro just a little ahead, and motions to the strings of lights hung between partially crumbled buildings, and Shiro's eyes follow from the colorful decorations to how they reflect in Keith's eyes, to the wide - so, so rare! - smile, and loses his breath completely at how  _ beautiful  _ this moment is.

"We're going to be late," he chuckles, still breathless, as Keith takes both of his hands into his own and walks slowly backwards, leading Shiro until the line of the lights end, halting abruptly at the last building; Shiro stumbles and falls right into Keith, chest to chest, and his smile is even more beautiful this up close.

"So what," Keith replies, a slight dusting of a blush over the bridge of his nose - or just a reflection of the lights? "We rarely get to enjoy those negotiation trips. Just relax, Shiro."

And he does; does his best to push away the will to hold Keith close like now, dip him down and kiss the smile from his lips; and instead, just smiles wider in return and lets himself be led further.

If there's something more bound to happen, it surely can wait.

 

**4** .

The night before, Shiro was woken with a hard thud on the mattress of his bed - suddenly, he's met with a bright blue light - a mass of jet black fur - then, Keith in his arms, feverish and startled, and just as surprised as Shiro.

He'd had nightmares, Shiro assumed, that's why the space wolf had intervened; Keith was quick to excuse himself but equally easy to be convinced to stay.

Hours later, it's morning - Shiro can feel as much thanks to the warm light hitting his exposed arm from the small cabin window - and Keith is finally asleep, curled up on himself on less than a half of Shiro's bed.

It's still new and fresh in both their minds, he assumes; the fight, everything that happened after it-- him being a clone. In two places at once; himself and yet not himself, and joining those two parts - his consciousness in the lion and the memories of his physical self back with the team, with Keith.

All that he remembers of Keith, of those warm hands gripping his own, of Keith's head propped up as he dozed off on the castle's couch - that isn't  _ his  _ to remember. It was him, and yet not him, living these moments; a warped version of himself, and yet, Keith was willing to  _ die _ for that version of him.

Keith, who up until this day, has  _ nightmares  _ about that version of him.

He remembers the hurt in Keith's eyes at night, when the space wolf brought him, distressed and upset after being woken up from the nightmare and yet seeing Shiro's face as the first thing; he's not sure if there is a thing in the world that could make it right.

If there is a thing in the world  _ Shiro  _ can do to make it right.

Instead, he finds himself selfishly wanting to touch Keith again; to have that reassurance between them re-established when he's back to being fully himself.

So he moves closer, cautious and hesitant, he wraps one arm around Keith's sleeping form and gently pulls him towards his chest. Keith seems to react instantly; he relaxes under the touch and presses back against Shiro, making himself more comfortable as his hand catches onto Shiro's wrist. Shiro in turn decides on snaking his other arm under Keith's head until he's enveloped in Shiro's arms, Shiro's face buried in his hair.

Keith had said he loved him; Shiro knows more than remembers than this was what broke the spell, what made him-not-him snap out of the control Haggar had over him.

And-- gods, he loves Keith too, loves him more than he thought humanly possible; loves him so much his heart threatens to burst with it, so he just holds on tighter, the fingers of his human hand tangling with Keith's, his thumb running calming circles over the top of his palm. Keith sighs softly at that and just pulls Shiro forward a little more, wrapping himself with Shiro's arms, and Shiro lets out a quiet chuckle.

He leans down and presses a hesitant kiss to Keith's hair, just above his temple; the slight surprised smile he receives in return makes his heart melt.

They don't speak; there is a lot of words to be said, a lot of explanations to be had - later in the day, or maybe at a completely different time, but what they have now - it says enough.

 

**5.**

The meeting, like all the others in the neverending series of meetings on the Atlas, is immensely boring. Shiro's truly happy that they chose him to captain the ship - that they acknowledged, somehow, his presence and his effort, and gave him a place to be - a role that fills the emptiness left by the fact that he's not piloting Black anymore, but he has to admit that being a diplomat and the face of a cross-galactic alliance is not as fulfilling as being a fighter pilot. And yet, he does his best; endures the meeting with a polite smile of his face despite the fact that it's been  _ three hours already _ and there isn't anything to distract him from the droning speech of a visiting ambassador--

_ tap, tap, tap. _

He startles, feeling a rhythmic touch of fingertips on his right thigh. Keith is sitting next to him, for all appearances more interested in the conversation taking place than Shiro himself.

_ Tap, tap. _

The hand slides a bit higher - not fingertips anymore, but a full,  _ warm _ , surprisingly large hand in the general area of his thigh - and Shiro bites back the surprise that grows in him, sending Keith an incredulous glance instead.

And at the same moment, Keith has the nerve to look away, apparently uninterested in Shiro's-- discomfort? No, not that;  _ embarrassment  _ is more of the word.

It takes another round of boring speeches and meaningful pats on the upper part of his leg for Shiro to gently clear his throat and offer a short break for all involved in the meeting - and thankfully, nobody noticed neither his embarrassment nor the unmistakably  _ gleeful  _ look in Keith's eyes; they filter out of the room one by one, discussing the current matters, leaving Shiro as the last to follow.

It takes only a splinter of a breath until he feels the cold metal wall pressing the rough cotton of the uniform onto his back, and the contrast of Keith's warm body pressing onto his chest; he doesn't even get to _blink_ before Keith tilts his head a little and then, all Shiro can feel is a pair of warm, soft, _insistent_ lips on his own.

It always manages to surprise him that Keith kisses with his entire body; he fits perfectly against Shiro, long half-gloved fingers carding through Shiro's hair, slim - but strong - hips pressed against his thigh to hold him in place. Keith's stronger than people give him credit for, and it sends Shiro's mind reeling that it's all  _ his  _ to experience, to worship and adore.

It takes a harder nip to Keith's lower lip for them to break away enough to catch a breath; the younger paladin looks all mussed and dazed, the strange violet hue of his eyes gone almost black with want and his lips reddened; Shiro's voice catches in his throat.

"I think the meeting can go on without you," Keith shrugs with a cheeky smile on his face, making Shiro's knees go weak in an instant.

"I-- think so too," he manages to reply, breathy and dazed, as Keith's warm fingers tangle with his own and lead him insistently away from the conference room.

 


End file.
